Pretty Ones
by Unreal Phantom
Summary: //FujiRyo// Fuji was like a rose. Beautiful, but underneath the lush petals were the thorns. If one wasn't careful, the thorns could draw immense pain if they continued to stay in the wound. His relationship was just like that.
1. Chapter 1

**Pretty Ones**

Ryoma had learned never to trust the pretty ones. They always made the pain worse.

Fuji Syusuke was no exception. Oh, he had tried to seduce Ryoma, with the light-colored locks that swayed like feathers in a light breeze, the clear-blue eyes that opened only when interested. He had caressed Ryoma's cheek and whispered into his ears…

_"You're mine…" _

_Ryoma had said nothing. He only continued panting, unable to say long sentences, stuck only to short phrases._

"_Say it, Ryoma, love," Fuji murmured into his ear, slowing his movements to emphasize his point. "You know you want to…"_

"_Syusuke," Ryoma whispered, need crying out. "Please…"_

"_Just say it," Fuji replied back, a sadistic smile on his face. "It'll end all of this."_

"_I'm…I'm yours," Ryoma breathed out heavily, gasping as Fuji stroked the flat plain of his stomach, drawing his nails lightly across it to maximize it's effect. _

"_Yes, Ryoma," Fuji said, eyes opening as he looked over his lover's slender form under him, writhing and struggling under the play of his own crafty hands. "You are mine!" He leaned down and placed his lips on that creamy, slim neck and had sealed Ryoma's fate with a kiss that went deeper than the skin. _

_Ryoma could only cry out softly and arch his back…_

In the end, Fuji left him. He remembered the pain, still shouldering some of it now, despite the fact that it was four years ago. He tried to forget it all, the anguish that came in the end when his counterpart left him. To him back then, Fuji _was _his other half. Together, they were one of the same whole and they were complete.

However, if they were so perfect, then why did they split apart? _Why?_ That question he continuously asked himself, trying to figure out if it truly was his fault that Fuji left…

"_I'm sorry, Syusuke!" he exclaimed. "I really am!"_

_Fuji stood with his back to Ryoma, head slightly bowed down. He gave a heavy sigh. "For what you did, I don't know if I could forgive you, Ryoma."_

"_But I really didn't do it on purpose!" Ryoma's gold eyes were filled with confusion and remorse, but Fuji didn't perceive it. "I never meant to hurt Yuuta! He was the one that challenged me in the first place and—" _

"_It doesn't matter anymore," Fuji interrupted. "I have to take him to a special hospital elsewhere. Onee-chan and I are to accompany him. I don't think we'll ever come back."_

_Ryoma's shoulders sagged in defeat as he took in Fuji's words. The black locks fell over his eyes, shielding them as Fuji turned to face him for the first time that day. If only Ryoma had looked into the clouded blue eyes, he would have observed the anger within as well as the immense sorrow._

"_I… I see…" Ryoma whispered, more to himself than to Fuji. "I guess this is good-bye, Fuji-senpai…" He turned and walked out of the apartment that they had once shared, but from now on would only contain the darkest memories…_

Four years ago. Ryoma should have forgotten the pain. But random occurrences in his life reminded him of the blue-eyed tensai at the most bizarre of times.

There was that one time he agreed to a date with a girl a year after their split, but had to cancel in the middle of it as his heart nearly tore itself apart. She had black hair, but her eyes were almost the same twinkling shade as _his._

He would walk by the beach and lean upon the railing, and suddenly remember the cheerful days when Fuji would take him there and they would spend the day in peace, with him sleeping on the sand and Fuji taking pictures of the sparkling sapphire sea.

_God, is it really my fault? _Ryoma would ask himself contemplatively. _If only he had heard the full story… Tch, he really is too protective of his brother. _His mind would argue back and forth, until a growl of frustration broke out of his mouth and shattered his concentration. At this point, with a heavy heart, he would slowly make his way home; not paying attention to his surroundings, nor to the people in the streets that stared at his effeminate features and wondered if that person really was a guy…

And he never detected the gaze from a pair of alluring blue eyes across the street, following his movements.

* * *

A/N-I've had this for a while, but never really had the chance to post it up. I wasn't sure if people would like it, but…there haven't been that many FujiRyo fics lately, so I suppose that is an excuse to post this. I'm also searching for a beta reader, since I kind of feel I need one. Give a shout out to me, and we'll proceed from there, I guess. 

Thanks for reading. Oh, and don't forget to review, so I know people like it. It's summer, and I need a push to get started.

-The Unreal Phantom


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ryoma stretched his arms lazily above his head, already bored with his classes. It was only a few weeks into the school year, but nothing had changed from the first year he'd arrived at Seigaku for junior high. Even in high school, the classes weren't all that difficult. Those around him were already complaining about the difficulty of English class, considering the literature they were going to delve into this year. Luckily, having spent a couple of years in America on his own, the language wasn't all that difficult for him to pick up. And so, while the teacher spent time in class going over passages that were harder to understand, Ryoma spent the hour either dozing with his trademark white cap pulled over his head or looking out of the window.

The weather was mild, still in the transition between summer and autumn. The trees were still lush and green. Finally the bell rung, signaling the end of class for the day. Ryoma put his things away in what seemed to be a leisurely pace, but inside he was impatient to get down to the changing rooms and into his uniform. The day had been frustrating, and since he was never a very open person, he vented out his feelings into tennis.

All in all, it was the same as it was the first year he came. He gave a small smirk as he recalled having to deal with conflicting emotions that came with growing up. However, he stopped when a picture of a smiling sempai rose up in his mind. Quickly casting it away he increased his pace, eager to have the feel of a tennis racket in his mind, knowing that the exhilaration of the game could erase—though temporarily—his unwanted emotions. What they were, however, he did not want to identify.

Not now, not ever.

* * *

The sun was close to setting when tennis practice was over, and he was just heading out of the locker room when he realized just how unexhausted he was. High school wasn't all that different from junior high. As it was his last year, the remaining star players had all gone away. Every single day after school, he was forced to compete with fellow peers that were nowhere near his level. Oh, sure, there were one or two that were a little better than usual, but it still wasn't enough to give him a good game. 

With his racket bag slung over one shoulder, he heaved a small sigh as he headed out the front gates of the school, his eyes automatically shifting over to the courts of the junior high when he passed by it.

_Momo—the first one I met. I suppose I could call him the big brother I've never had. His laidback attitude and loose mouth always got him in trouble with others. Whether it was the opposing players, Kamio—over the bike and Ann, or Kaidoh._

_And Kaidoh. He was threatening on the outside, ' always hissing like a snake' people would say. But to those that knew him well, we would always compare him more to a snarly kitten. I did catch him that one time looking adoringly at a couple of stray kittens in a box. _

_Probably the most frustrating to play against was Inui. His data collecting would sometimes get in the way and clash with his social skills, but he wasn't a bad person overall. But his juices were the worst ever. Urgh. And the names he gave them were so bizarre._

_Taka was always the quiet one of the group, the one who seemed to be cheerful despite the occasion. Then he did a complete 180 degree personality change when he picked up a racket. There seems to be no middle ground for him. Despite that, people are still drawn to his character._

_The Golden Pair is probably the one doubles legend that will live on for a while. People say that opposites attract. Kikumaru was so carefree, so energetic, always running around and exploring everything. Oishi, on the other hand, was the mother hen of our group. He'd be the one to depend upon if someone was injured. He could also be referred to as the compassionate one of our captains._

_The stoic and famous ice captain was, of course, Tezuka. I think I loved him at one time. His strength was admired by everyone, and I was one of them. I challenged him at every turn. He accepted them, even though he knew I wasn't ready at that time. However, my love was never returned, and I grew tired of waiting for him._

_And then there was…Fuji. I couldn't get near Tezuka, so I went to him to satiate my hunger for competition. He did so, surprisingly. I never thought that he could poise such a challenge. Every time I felt like I got closer to him, he pulled away slyly. Even when our relationship went beyond that of the court, he pulled away from me. I don't know if it was unconscious or not, but I never got to know him as well as I would've liked. Even Eiji said that I knew him far better than he ever did. It wasn't enough._

_Still…maybe it was for the best that I didn't get too close. It still hurts even now… _His expression darkened, the golden eyes growing dim with the pain that still existed despite the fact that it was so long ago. So lost was he in his thoughts that he never noticed a shadowy figure trailing behind him. He cut through into a small alleyway where he usually took a shortcut on the way home when it came up from behind and forcefully applied a cloth to his face. It was scented with a sickly sweet fragrance that made him shudder, and he struggled to push the attacker off. However, the bulk of his tennis bag made it difficult and he found himself spiraling down into a dark abyss. He was shoved onto the ground and his head was cut on the wall, a feeling of wetness trickling down from his temple. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was a second, slimmer figure from the corner of his vision appear and head towards the attacker.

Then came the darkness.

* * *

"Ryoma, wake up. Come on, open your eyes." Ryoma heard the voice, as if it came from a far distance or from a radio station that didn't have the best reception. The darkness was comforting, and he didn't want to get back into reality too soon. It was always so complicated—with emotions and having to talk to people—that he preferred to stay here, in the darkness, where nothing else would disturb him. 

"Ryoma!"

He found himself forcefully wrenched back to reality, and with that came a splitting pain in his head. He groaned and tried to sit up, resulting in a heavy throbbing and more confusion. Needless to say, he was unsuccessful in sitting up, and so he willingly laid back down when a gentle push stopped him from getting up.

"Just lay down for a few more minutes, until you feel a little less dizzy," the voice said, sounding oddly familiar. Ryoma opened his eyes, but it was futile to try and see anything. The sun had set and the alley was extremely dim, away from the streetlamps. All he could see was a black outline against the faint glow from the moon. It was unusually slim—though still obviously a male—and the voice was softer than most. Ryoma usually could put two and two together, but the throbbing pain had not receded, making the logical connections far more difficult than they really were.

"All right," he said, his voice a little rough from disuse. He figured that a couple of hours had passed from when he had lost consciousness. He panicked a little when he couldn't find his tennis bag, struggling to sit up once more. A hand pushed him gently back down, replying to his silent question.

"You bag is on the side right now. I figured that having you lay on it wasn't the best thing for your rackets."

A little reassured, Ryoma relaxed, trying to make his position more comfortable. Considering that it was plain asphalt, it was difficult. What felt like an eternity later—though in reality it was probably only half an hour—the throbbing receded slightly, and he was able to sit up without too much trouble. "Ah…!" he cried out softly, his hand going to his head as the blood rushed out and dizziness settled over him once more. He hated showing weakness, even to complete strangers. When he felt that he was stable once more, he stood up, using one hand to support his weight on the wall as he swayed a little.

The figure beside him handed him his bag. "Here."

He took it with a nod of thanks, but it caused his head to throb a little. "Thank you," Ryoma said instead. The first few steps that he took were hesitant, afraid that the faintness might come over him again. However, when he noticed that it didn't, his steps grew in confidence and in speed. His head was still throbbing a little, though. When he reached the end of the alleyway that opened up into a street lit with a few streetlights, he turned to his defender, only to reel backwards in shock.

"Fuji?"

* * *

_No way…this can't be possible. _Ryoma's mind was still reeling in shock at this revelation. To make matters worse, the pain from his temple seemed to have worsened as well, causing him to sway in faintness. Concerned, Fuji moved closer to steady him, worried that the other might collapse. When he reached out, Ryoma unconsciously flinched away from his touch. 

"No…" Ryoma whispered softly. "Why are you back here? You said that you would never come back." A sharp pain ran through his chest, clamping it uncomfortably. He wondered now why he was still grieving over Fuji.

Fuji, if his eyes were shown, would reflect deep hurt from when Ryoma flinched away from him. However, they were closed as usual. Long ago, he had discovered the dangers of letting them be shown to the rest of the world. His eyes were simply too expressive, letting others have an unfair advantage over his emotions while he could only take a guess at theirs. "I wanted to see you again, Echizen. It's been so long." His voice was soft and pleading.

However, Ryoma wasn't going to be taken in by it. It _had _been a really long time, and he wasn't going to forgive Fuji so readily for leaving him so abruptly and in such a harsh manner. Not when the other didn't even give him a chance to explain. "I'm going home," he said bitterly, turning his back to Fuji. He stumbled a little as the sudden motion of turning so quickly made his vision swim and his head light. When he felt Fuji's arm on his own to hold him steady, he jerked himself away from him. "Don't touch me!" he cried out harshly. He ran the rest of the way home, his bag bouncing on his shoulders. A small part of him asked why he had acted the way he did, when Fuji had come back and rescued him. The majority of his emotions were centered on anger and frustration. Whether it was directed at himself or Fuji, he did not know.

He arrived at home sweaty and his face covered in dried blood. Nanako cried out in shock to see him so.

"Ryoma! What happened to you?"

Ryoma's mind ran through possible stories that could be told, unwilling to tell his cousin what really happened. "I—I ran into a pole on the way home and fainted." Inwardly, he flinched at the implausibility of his story, not to mention the stupidity of it. He only hoped that it would be accepted.

"R-really? That must of hurt a lot. What were you doing to make you run into the pole?" She asked out of kindness and concern, but it irked Ryoma to have to lie even more.

"I was just a little distracted by some matters about school," he muttered, looking away. Feigning pain and dizziness, he was able to distract Nanako from asking him to elaborate. After washing his face of the blood and taking a long soak, his body felt refreshed, even as his heart did not. He collapsed gratefully onto his bed, willing to head off into sleep, hoping for the welcome oblivion where he did not have to deal with such complicated matters.

"Why me?" he groaned into his pillow, his voice muffled. "Why?" The night held no responses for him, and his question went unanswered as he slept.

* * *

A/N-It's developing quite well, I think. For some reason, this chapter was comparatively easy to write next to some other ficlets and chapters. 

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed it. Now that you've read, it's only fair to review and tell me your thoughts and comments on it, right?

-The Unreal Phantom


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Ryoma attended school the next day, despite Nanako's worries about his health. The cut—long, but not very deep—didn't seem to be all that serious, especially after the blood was washed off. Still, she was worried. He compromised by saying that if he felt dizzy or faint, he would come home straight away. Pacified, she agreed. However, there was a big commotion at school when the rest of his class saw him.

"Ehh! What's with that bandage on your head, Echizen?" Horio questioned loudly, wanting the other people in the class to look over at Ryoma and, thus, himself. "Did something happen to you?"

Ryoma flinched a little at the penetrating voice, wishing that somebody or something would silence Horio for the day. "It's nothing," he muttered in his usual emotionless voice. It was strange, he thought, that Horio and the others were still talking to him, despite the fact that he had grown so cold and withdrawn. Once in a while, he'd talk to them, but he had never initiated a conversation on his own. The only time he spoke on his own was when he was on the court, in his own element where he felt the most comfortable.

"What do you mean it's nothing? You were perfectly fine yesterday, Echizen." Horio still spoke in a loud tone, seemingly oblivious to the dangerous glance Ryoma sent him. "Did something happen after tennis practice? After all, we were all there with you, and you were perfectly find when you left."

Ryoma sensed the intense looks and curious gazes directed toward his way. Groaning inwardly at the blatant stupidity of Horio's imperviousness to his looks, he replied, "It's _nothing._ Okay?" His voice was dangerously soft, his golden eyes now flashing with a hazardous spark. No one else could see his expression, and his voice was heard only by Horio.

Horio looked, and saw the predatory look in Ryoma's eyes, gulping nervously as he finally got the message. "O-okay. It's nothing," he repeated back, his voice still loud, despite the fact that he had tried to lower it.

Ryoma only sighed, knowing that it was impossible and a waste of his energy to try and tell Horio to be quiet. It seemed that what he wished for was impossible. And in more areas than one.

* * *

All throughout the day, Ryoma had to force himself to act normally, to ignore what had happened the day before. However, all his efforts were completely shattered when he discovered Fuji outside the school gates, apparently waiting for him. He had stopped in his tracks, suddenly made aware of his appearance and his sweaty uniform from after practice. He hadn't changed because he was hoping to hurry home and take a more relaxing shower there. Now he wished he had. His mind argued back and forth, one side saying that he didn't care what Fuji thought of him, the other caring immensely for some reason. 

Meanwhile, Fuji took the opportunity to approach him while he was still in confusion.

Ryoma unconsciously edged away from Fuji, his eyes wary and alert. He was deciding on whether he should make a run for it or act as if he hadn't seen Fuji when the other spoke up.

"Please, Echizen, just let me talk to you."

He glanced over, and decided that the conversation could be held while moving. "Why?" It was short and it was cold. Nothing more than Fuji deserved.

"I have to. Besides, you owe me." The rest was left unspoken, as Fuji was sure Ryoma knew what he meant.

Ryoma certainly did, but fought to the end anyway. "Fine," he snapped impatiently. "But hurry up. I'm busy." He tried to walk away, but found himself unable to move as Fuji gripped his arm and held him there with surprising ease.

"On my terms," Fuji said. His eyes were open and staring in Ryoma's.

Ryoma grew chilled at the seriousness in Fuji's eyes, wanting to shudder but willed himself not to. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not this late. "Alright. On your terms, then. Can you let go of me now?" His tone was steady. Inwardly, he was glad that he had always been an expert on keeping his emotions from showing. The only one that could probably best him at it was standing next to him.

When Fuji took him to a small coffee shop nearby, he was really shocked. Considering his reactions and responses—most of which were rude, but of which he didn't really care—he was surprised with Fuji's maturity level. He would never admit it, but at heart, Ryoma felt he was still stuck in junior high with the original group.

Still, coffee shops wouldn't be his first choice for holding a conversation with an ex-boyfriend. And so, he tried to persuade Fuji to go somewhere else to talk.

"I can't go in there. I haven't showered yet and I'm still in my uniform." He stated it bluntly.

Fuji gave a small private smile when Ryoma looked away. _It seems that he hasn't changed at all,_ he thought wistfully. _When he doesn't like something, he'll say it right away. _"It's fine. No one will notice." He tried for a reassuring tone. With a little nudge, he was able to get Ryoma inside before the other could answer back. Shutting the door neatly behind himself, Fuji headed towards a table near the back and away from most eyes in the shop, knowing that it would be best if he wanted Ryoma to talk as well.

"May I take your orders?" a seasoned waitress asked the two of them when they had sat down.

"I'll have a wasabi cappuccino, please," Fuji said.

"Grape Ponta."

"I'll be back soon with your drinks." Whether she had any doubts about getting the drinks, she did not show. She merely walked briskly back to the drink stations as if they were ordered all the time.

They sat in silence: Ryoma because he was never a talker, and Fuji being himself. _He's practically squirming in discomfort. _He gave a small smile, though half of it was through the pain of remember from their past.

"Why do you do that?" Ryoma finally grumbled, cutting through Fuji's thoughts.

"Do what?" Fuji was confused, and even more so that Ryoma was the one to speak first.

"That. You just did it again," Ryoma said. "You smile when there's nothing to smile at."

Whether he was genuinely curious or not, Fuji decided to answer. After all, it wasn't every day that Ryoma would speak up. _In fact, I had to coax him into talking in the past whenever we were out in public. _He gave a wistful smile before he spoke.

"Whatever do you mean?"

_God, Fuji's still as elusive as ever. _It irritated Ryoma a lot. _Why can't he speak straight for once? It's always in riddles, and he's always hiding behind that smile of his. _"Why can't you stop pretending and start being yourself for once?" It came out in a half-shout, and the rest of the coffee shop quickly grew silent at his outburst. Blushing, he pulled his cap over his face, hiding his eyes as he looked away.

"Your drinks," the waitress announced as she set them down.

Relieved at the interruption, Ryoma grabbed the can of Ponta and took a gulp of it.

"You're not all that different from me, Echizen," Fuji said suddenly.

Ryoma looked over from under the brim of his cap. "What do you mean?" he muttered, not wanting to attract attention again.

"You say that I hide behind my smile. What about you?" Fuji questioned. "Don't you do the same with your cap?"

Ryoma glared at Fuji, but stayed silent, unable to answer back. It was like this before, and he realized that nothing would ever change. Throwing some change onto the table, he pushed back his chair and quickly walked out the door, wanting desperately to get away from Fuji and his mind games. He knew it was foolish and impulsive, but he didn't care anymore. It was all hurtful either way.

"Echizen! Wait, please!"

He heard Fuji calling out, but he continued to walk. A few steps out of the store, he found that Fuji had clamped onto his wrist.

"Let me go! I have nothing more to say to you, Fuji." He glared at Fuji once more from under his cap, his eyes bright with emotions. He tried tugging his wrist away, but Fuji held on. "Let go of me," he cried out, struggling to break free.

"Why, Ryoma? Why won't you talk to me?" Fuji's voice was soft as his other hand slipped under Ryoma's chin to tilt it up, forcing the other to look him in the eyes. "Why?" That one question held so many other ones beneath itself, meanings upon meanings.

Ryoma's eyes grew wide as he heard Fuji say his name. It felt like a caress, almost too gentle to be from the sadist that left him. "Fine. We'll talk somewhere else," he said as he just noticed the stares from those out on the street. He knew that it looked like a lover's quarrel and—in a way—it was. Heading towards the general vicinity of a park nearby, he was shocked when the hand that was holding onto his wrist slipped into his own. It was warm and fit as if it was made for his own.

When they passed by the local public tennis courts, Fuji saw the gaze Ryoma gave them, the longing and the obsession behind it all. _He's only ever had three loves in his life: tennis, Karupin, and Ponta. I tried to be one of them, but it never came true. Can I still try? _He felt Ryoma's smaller hand within his own, and gave it a small squeeze to reassure himself that he was still there. Ryoma gave him a confused glance, but continued walking without speaking.

"Do you want to play a game with me?" Fuji asked suddenly with a sly glance over to Ryoma.

Ryoma arched an eyebrow. "I didn't realize that you still played tennis, Fuji." He said it scathingly, and Fuji admitted that he did deserve that rebuke from Ryoma. After all, he did state in the past that he would never take up tennis again because of what happened to Yuuta.

"I don't. However," Fuji added. "It doesn't mean that I still can't keep up with you even now."

"Is that so?" Ryoma's mood greatly improved as thoughts of playing against Fuji ran through him and his anticipation grew. All the dark clouds that followed him earlier on in the day seemed to have disappeared temporarily, as it always did whenever tennis was involved.

As they walked onto one of the unoccupied courts, Ryoma silently handed a spare racket to Fuji, who took it with surprise.

"What? You can't play without a racket," Ryoma muttered, looking away embarrassed.

"Thank you," said Fuji, suddenly struck with a longing to just _hold_ him tight within his arms. However, he forced himself to turn away as he gripped the racket tightly.

"You're not going to play in those clothes, are you?" Ryoma questioned to his back.

Looking down at his attire, Fuji had to admit that his long-sleeved brown overcoat didn't give one the flexibility one needed to play tennis. Sliding it off his arms, his folded it and laid it on a bench close by. At the last minute, he rolled up the cuffs to the white, button-up shirt he had on underneath until they were just above his elbow. "Ready," he called out to Ryoma, who was already on the other side of the court, watching him carefully, he noticed.

"It seems kind of unfair to play against you when you're so restricted," said Ryoma.

"Since when were you so worried about my well-being?" Fuji questioned. He meant it lightly and as a joke, but Ryoma took it seriously. However, he was unable to respond back but with," Fine. Whatever."

"If it makes you feel better, then…" Fuji unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. "Is this okay?"

Ryoma grew a little nervous. "Y-yeah." He could see Fuji's light skin where it was exposed. His delicate collarbone was clearly visible and it made his blood pulse and his body tingle. To distract himself, he took a ball out from his bag and went to the serve line, focusing on the rough texture of the ball and the feel of the racket in his hand.

"Here goes," he said to himself softly as he served the first ball in a game that had been on pause for four years.

* * *

The sun had set and night had descended on the tennis courts by the time the game between the two of them had ended. Ryoma was stretched out on the ground, his arms out to either side of him as he let the light breeze cool him off, panting a little. He was somewhat surprised at first that Fuji could still put up a good fight, but he wasn't called a tensai for nothing. 

Fuji, meanwhile, sat up on the ground besides Ryoma, his arms supporting himself. "Ne, Echizen. What was the score?" He, too, was panting a little as his sweat dried off.

"I don't know," Ryoma replied, a little surprised to find out that he didn't care much either. He was satisfied just by the game itself. "I stopped counting after the fourth serve. Or was it the fifth?" It had been a long time since he played to the full extent of his abilities, and the score didn't matter. "Didn't you keep count?" he questioned.

"I was a little…distracted at the moment," Fuji replied. He knew that he should've watched the game while they were playing, but he could've help but pay more attention to Ryoma instead. The grunts he would give as he gave the ball a hard _whack_, the way the hem of the shirt rode up to show his slender waist, his lithe and graceful body as it moved over the court. The two of them only stopped after there was a unanimous agreement to stop due to the fatigue.

"Besides, it was still fun, wasn't it? Score or no score," Fuji added as he looked over at Ryoma's figure next to his own. Once again, as longing came over him to kiss the lips that were parted in breath. _It's too soon._ If Fuji wanted to repair his relationship with Ryoma, he knew that it would have to be through small steps. He couldn't let his desires take over until he was sure Ryoma wouldn't reject him any longer. _Itf like trying to befriend an abused animal,_ Fuji related. Nonetheless, it was hard to control his possessive needs to make Ryoma his, though he knew he deserved to suffer for what he did in the past.

"I think we should both get going, Echizen. I'm sure your cousin is very worried about you," Fuji said suddenly as he stood up, brushing his bottom.

"W-wait, what?" said Ryoma as he hurriedly got up as well, startled by Fuji's words. "Now?"

"It's getting late. I'm sure your father is worried as well."

"But…"

"But what?" Fuji inquired gently. He could hear the wistfulness behind Ryoma's words clearly, but Ryoma needed to say it himself.

"Never mind," said Ryoma. He reached over to his racket bag and swung it over his shoulder.

"All right, then," Fuji answered. "Good bye." It would take a while for Ryoma to trust him once more, but he was prepared to wait as long as he had to. He wasn't going to let another chance slip out of his grasp once more. As he turned to leave, he heard Ryoma calling out to him once more.

"Can we play again tomorrow?"

Fuji smiled to himself. _He's only like a child when it comes to tennis._ "If you want to, Echizen." And then he departed.

* * *

When Ryoma returned back home, he was immediately bombarded with questions from both his cousin and his father. 

"Ryoma! Are you all right! I was so worried something else happened to you again!"

"So, did you meet a cute girl and then decide to take her out on a date?"

"Nothing happened to you, right? You could've at least called to tell us you were fine."

"Are you going out on another date tomorrow? You can tell me all about today's date."

Ryoma gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm fine. I only stayed out this long because I had a game with…with a friend from the past."

"Oh, so it's not a girl?" Nanjiroh questioned, disappointment evident in his voice. "Are you going out for a date tomorrow then?"

"No!" Ryoma headed upstairs, eager to take a bath and shed the now twice-soaked uniform to clean himself up. Karupin followed him upstairs as well, meowing to get his attention.

"Ryoma seems different today, oji-san," Nanako commented as Ryoma left. "Almost as if he's content for once."

"Eh, what's that?" Nanjiroh said as he turned back to his newspapers, his interest completely gone when he found out that his son wasn't on a date with a pretty girl. "He seems about the same to me. All annoyed and snappy like an irritated turtle."

"Oji-san! That's not a very nice thing to say about your own son!" Nanako chided at Nanjiroh.

"All right, all right. I take that back," Nanjiroh said to placate her.

Back upstairs, Ryoma had finished with his bath and was able to slip underneath the covers of his bed with Karupin next to him. He was barely able to tell Karupin about the day's events before he fell into an undisturbed sleep for the first time since four years ago.

"Ne, Karupin. I played a game with Fuji-senpai. It was the best one I had for a while…" he said drowsily.

Karupin gave a sleepy _meow_ as an answer before the two of them drifted off into sleep.

* * *

A/N- Yay! I'm done with another chapter. I feel that their relationship is developing rather nicely. Well, other than the fact that their hiding their past, albeit temporarily, by playing some tennis. I guess that means that I have to write about it later on. sweatdrop 

Anyhow, that was really fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it!

-The Unreal Phantom

2006.08.13


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Life could be such a fickle matter to deal with. It threw things at you when you were least expecting it, and not all of its surprises were good. As a matter of fact, most of the surprises thrown seemed to be unwanted ones.

That was the conclusion Ryoma came up with as the memories of last week's tennis match with Fuji rose unbidden for what seemed like the millionth time. Although there were feelings of bliss that accompanied it (he had finally found someone challenging to play against), there were also waves of embarrassment that washed over him as he ran that day through his mind. Though he had thought nothing of it at the time, his retrospection on his immature actions made him groan loudly into his pillow as he laid there on his bed in the early morning. It was a rare weekend where the tennis team didn't have a match, so he had wanted to sleep in. He groaned once more as he realized the fact that his plans of sleeping an extra hour would not be fulfilled.

_It's all Fuji's fault,_ Ryoma grumbled to himself privately. _I wouldn't be so distracted if he had just come like he promised. I've been waiting a week to have a match with him. If I have to wait another week, he can just kiss that opportunity goodbye._

Thoughts drifted through his head as he tried to rationalize the reason why Fuji hadn't talked to him like he had promised. He had gotten the impression that Fuji was not the same person as he was in the past. Though his nature of keeping his emotions from showing seemed as strong as ever, the smile seemed less calculated and more sincere. _Well, it could just be my imagination or the fact that I haven't seen him for four years, but still…he's changed._

A strong wave of realization hit him as he questioned himself. _Have I changed at all? Or am I the same person that I was when the two of us were still…still together? _He screamed silently into his pillow, the frustration bottling up inside of him. When he lifted his face, his eyes fell upon the open eyes of Karupin staring up at him, _meow_-ing in concern.

Ryoma sighed as he picked up his beloved Himalayan. "You know, Karupin, life would be more enjoyable if Fuji had never come back," he said, trying for a convincing tone. But he knew that deep down inside, he was lying to himself.

"Maybe it's better to live a lie rather than suffer with the truth."

Karupin only answered with a blink of its eyes.

* * *

The doorbell of the Echizen household rang out suddenly in the afternoon, startling Nanjiroh into falling off his perch on the railing of the counter. "Oi, oi! What kind of person would be coming around here at this time of the day?" he grumbled, but brightened up as a thought ran through his head. "Maybe it's a pretty girl coming to meet me!" He hustled to the front door, eager to see who came to call, and opened the door. _It's a girl!…or is that a guy? _He squinted as he tried to discern the sex of the slender figure before him. _Well, the chest is flat, so it's probably a guy. But that face…for some reason, it seems familiar._

Fuji stood there in silence as Nanjiroh looked him over, and knew that he hadn't been identified yet. _I should use this to my advantage in case his family knows about Ryoma's relationship with me four years ago. _He cleared his throat to break the silence. "Ah, Echizen-san, I'm a friend of Ryoma's from school." It wasn't quite a lie, for he and Ryoma had gone to Seigaku in the past together. "I was wondering if I could talk to him."

Nanjiroh had given up his hopes of the stranger—yet not so much a stranger—being the pretty girl he had hoped for when he heard the voice. Though it was too low to belong to a female, it was barely low enough to be on the borderline for being a male. "I'll see if he's still here." He moved to the foot of the staircase, too lazy to climb upstairs. "Oi, Ryoma! Someone here's to see you!" Nanjiroh paused for a second, but heard no response from upstairs. "Ryoma! Are you up there?" He walked back to the front door. "He's not in the house right now," he replied, shaking his head. "I don't think he went out for today, or else he would've told someone. Just look around on the temple grounds. He's probably near the tennis courts on the south side."

"Ah, thank you, Echizen-san," Fuji replied. "I'll go and find him now."

"Wait, have I seen you around before?" Nanjiroh asked. He was racking his brain for answers, but couldn't find it.

Fuji shook his head. "I don't think so. At least, not recently." And he walked away before Nanjiroh could figure out what that meant. He strolled around a bit, surveying the scenery without paying too much attention to any one particular aspect. Before long, he heard a rhythmic _twack _from around the corners of the house. Interspersed with those were grunts and panting from an all too familiar voice. Fuji's breath hitched in his throat. _Hearing that sound really brings back memories,_ he commented to himself. But before the memories could rise, he suppressed them as he walked around the corner. "Echizen, is that you?"

Ryoma jerked around in surprise, forgetting about the rebounding tennis ball that he had just hit. "Watch out!" he shouted, his eyes growing large.

Fuji managed to spin to the side, barely dodging the ball. On anyone else, the move might've seemed awkward, but Fuji managed to execute it while looking graceful. "I think you hit it a bit too hard," Fuji commented, seemingly unruffled.

Ryoma let out the breath that he had held in during the tense moment. "Were you hit?" he asked—more out of custom than worry—as he jogged past Fuji to retrieve the ball. He tried hard not to make eye contact with Fuji, feeling uncomfortable as it was.

"I don't think so," Fuji said. "Echizen, I need to speak with you."

However, Ryoma chose to ignore Fuji as he walked back to the half tennis court. He began hitting the ball once more, trying to focus on hitting the ball as he hard as he could.

"Echizen."

_Twack._

"Ryoma."

_Twack._

"_Ryoma._"

_Twack._

Before Ryoma could swing the racket and hit the ball, he found himself unable to move as one of Fuji's hand gripped onto his wrist; the other hand had caught the ball on the rebound.

Ignoring the throbbing that had resulted from catching the tennis ball, Fuji turned his eyes on Ryoma. "I know that you're angry right now, but you have to let me explain."

"You're hurt," Ryoma said suddenly, his voice surprised. The hand that was free moved towards Fuji's cheek and stroked the red welt gently.

Fuji flinched away from the touch, more from the sting of the raw wound rather than the contact with Ryoma.

However, Ryoma misinterpreted the action. Remembering who he was with at the moment, Ryoma dropped his hand quickly and looked away. "We can talk later. Let's go in the house so I can treat your wound." Freeing his other hand, he headed in the direction of the house.

Unexpectedly, Fuji saw Ryoma enter through a side door rather than the front door.

"Because oyaji's bound to ask some questions and start interrogating me about you," Ryoma replied to Fuji's questioning expression. "Let's go to my room, or else they'll start."

_Wouldn't they ask questions once they find the two of us alone upstairs? Or do they not know yet because you've never told your family about our past relationship? Curious…_ Fuji's mind was whirling in thought as he headed up the stairs and the more bitter thoughts of the past assaulted him. He automatically took a seat on the bed, and couldn't help but give a wry smile at the raised eyebrows that Ryoma directed toward him.

"I'll go and get the first-aid kit," Ryoma said as he headed out the door, his awkwardness of the situation apparent.

And so, Fuji was back in Ryoma's room for the first time in four years. From his point of view, nothing seemed to have changed much. The furniture was the same, and the desk was still there, with neat piles of papers and books on its surface. However, something was different, and it was more of a subtle change. It took a moment, but Fuji finally realized that every trace of him was gone from that room. The little pet cactus that he had given to Ryoma on his birthday had disappeared from its place on the windowsill. A small picture of the two of them together that Ryoma had once place on his desk had vanished as well.

It was as if his relationship with Ryoma had never existed.

For some reason, this hurt more than Ryoma's attitude towards him when they first saw each other once more. It was easy to deal with anger, because Fuji knew how to placate Ryoma. However…the fact that Ryoma had chosen to erase the past rather than preserve it was a stab in the heart for Fuji.

His eyes flitted over the room, trying to find something, _anything_ that showed that he had once existed.

Nothing.

His hand closed in front of his chest, his eyes looking downwards at the floor. _What is this sharp pain in my chest? Why does it hurt so much?_ He was unaware of the fact that his breathing had increased in speed.

The door swung open. "Ne, Fuji-sempai, what's wrong?" Ryoma asked as he noticed the beads of sweat on Fuji's face and the panicked breathing. He took a seat beside Fuji on the bed and used a towel to wipe away the sweat. "Are you okay?"

Fuji looked up at him, his eyes open as he stared him in the eye. "My chest…it hurts for some reason."

Ryoma swallowed as he faced those sharp blue eyes; the whirl of emotions within them made his heart lurch. "Do you…do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, I'm fine." He seemed to have snapped out of it and slowed his breathing down.

Ryoma could only shrug in awkwardness. "I'll just take care of your wound now." He dabbed a few drops of hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton swab before cleaning the abrasion on Fuji's cheek. As the cotton made contact with the injury, he saw that Fuji flinched slightly, but did not cry out in pain. _It's kind of expected. He never really showed much emotion when we were together. _"There. You're good," Ryoma said as he applied the bandage to Fuji's cheek. Even with it on his face, Fuji still looked as pretty as ever. _Nothing seems to diminish his looks_, Ryoma thought dryly to himself. _I'm not going to fall for it again, however._

"Ah, thank you," Fuji said, a hand going up to finger the neat job. He had been silent during the whole process, his mind busy as he willed himself not to concentrate too much on the slim fingers that were plying the medicine on his skin. He had longed to give a gentle kiss to them, but had decided that it would only scare Ryoma away. _And I can't have that happen now, could I? Not after all the care I took thus far to get him to speak to me again._

"I guess this means that you can leave now," Ryoma said suddenly, fidgeting under Fuji's expressionless gaze. It was a wonder to him how such an impassionate look could make him squirm so much, making him feel as if he was back in junior high once more. Without a look back, he stood up and walked out of his room and went down stairs to the front door directly. He glanced around, glad that his father was out of sight.

Fuji followed without a complaint, realizing that Ryoma wasn't in the mood to speak to him, no matter how hard he would try to make him listen. Ryoma already had the door open and gestured silently to him step out of the house. Fuji did so, knowing that it would be fruitless to argue. Instead, he tried another tactic to see if Ryoma would respond.

"I know that you really don't want to talk to me anymore, Echizen…"

Ryoma said nothing, his silence as his answer.

"…but perhaps you'll feel more comfortable after speaking to Yuuta."

Everything seemed to freeze for a split second. Ryoma tried to speak, but found that his mouth was dry, so he swallowed.

"Yuuta? He's back?"

* * *

A/N- And, thus, another chapter is completed. I have no comments really about this chapter, other than the fact that it gave me some trouble when I first started to write it. Other than that, it flowed out better, I think.

Love it or hate it, writers like feedback. It's the currency for stories that are written (for free) with the readers in mind :)

-The Unreal Phantom


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_He's back…Fuji said that he would never come back…I'm so confused right now._ Ryoma sat silently next to Fuji in the taxi that was taking the two of them over to the hospital Yuuta was staying at. He looked out the window, wanting to look anywhere but at the tensai next to him at the moment. However, his thoughts kept repeating and cycling through his head, preventing him from calming down his high-strung emotions.

Fuji sat next to him. Well, he sat on one side and had noticed that Ryoma edged as close to the door as was possible. He chanced a glanced and saw that Ryoma was fidgeting slightly, quite unlike his usual calm self. He opened his mouth to say something to the younger boy, but shut it, deciding that it probably wasn't the best moment to speak with an agitated Ryoma.

When the car rolled to a stop, Fuji spoke up at last. "We're here."

Ryoma nodded once, rigidly, and got out of the car, his eyes roaming over the white exterior of the hospital. "Yuuta's in there somewhere," he whispered softly to himself.

Fuji, who had already stepped out of the car, heard Ryoma. An unexpected jolt of pain struck through his chest. _What…what was that? Why does it hurt so much? _He clutched his chest, looking down at his hand in surprise.

Ryoma looked over at Fuji. "Are you okay, Fuji-sempai?" he asked, noting the clenched fist and the troubled face.

"Yeah…I'm fine," Fuji said, his eyes distant and unfocused. He shut them, forcing himself to pay attention. "Let's go inside. I'm sure you want to talk to Yuuta now."

They walked onto the visitor's floor and Fuji led Ryoma over to a door with a card in the slot reading 'Fuji Yuuta' in bold, black print.

"This is it. Why don't you go in first?" Fuji said, his throat a little tight. _What am I doing? I shouldn't be jealous of Yuuta, but I am._

Ryoma put on hand on the handle, and then hesitated before finally opening the door.

"Aniki, I told you to stop visiting me. I'm fine! I've been fine—oh," Yuuta stopped suddenly, noting that the visitor wasn't just his brother.

"Hey," Ryoma said softly.

"Echizen Ryoma? It really is you!" Yuuta exclaimed in surprise from his position on the hospital bed. "And what's with that lame greeting? We haven't seen each other for four years, and all you can say is 'hey'?"

Ryoma could only shrug uncomfortably as he hovered by the open door, unable to walk out like he really wanted to at the moment because Fuji was behind him, quietly nudging for him to walk in farther. He stumbled in from a particularly hard nudge, nearly falling on top of Yuuta. So, he took a seat at a nearby chair, thinking of a way to start the apology to Yuuta he never gave to Yuuta four years ago.

It was strange, really, how the words just wouldn't come out, despite the fact that he's rehearsed the words so often since the incident, so many times that they were perfectly memorized. He reached in his mind to recite them, but found that he couldn't remember them at all. He opened his mouth, and closed it again, finding nothing appropriate to say.

Fuji stood with his arms crossed and leaned against the door he had just shut, a silent figure barring any ideas of escape for Ryoma.

"So, what's going on?" Yuuta asked curiously, looking from Fuji to Ryoma and back.

Ryoma looked down at the white-tiled floor of the room, unable to meet the eyes of either of the Fuji brothers.

"Why don't you start off by telling me your side of the story, Ryoma? If I remember correctly, I never took the opportunity to listen four years ago," Fuji said softly, his eyes looking at Ryoma's form on the chair.

Ryoma's eyes snapped to look at Fuji's, noting the intense stare he was receiving from the tensai.

"Aniki, stop it! You're scaring him. What happened in the past—" Yuuta stopped his words when Fuji glanced over at him, an old gesture for him to be silent.

Ryoma looked at Yuuta's bewildered look and back at Fuji, who still had his gaze on Ryoma.

"…We…we were playing an informal match at a local tennis court near Yuuta's school. He challenged me and, naturally, I couldn't refuse the challenge. I still remember playing him during the match against St. Rudolph and particularly his Twist Spin Shot, and I wanted to see if he'd gotten any better. I didn't know that the shot strained his shoulder so much, so I forced him to use it as often as he could just to see it. We were both too caught up in the game when suddenly he fell to the ground clutching his left shoulder and crying out." Ryoma's eyes clouded as he remembered the day, how Yuuta's scream—laced with pain—tore into his heart and he froze there on the opposite side of the court, unable to move until Yuuta looked to him, calling out his name for help. "If only I had paid more attention to the fact that he was pushing himself, then maybe I would've asked if something was wrong. But, my focus was solely on his techniques, not him. And, well, you know what happened next," Ryoma finished lamely, his eyes turned away from both Fuji brothers.

"See, I told you that he wasn't at fault, aniki!" Yuuta turned towards his older brother. "Just because you're a prodigy at tennis and a genius doesn't always mean that you know about everything that happens. He didn't do it on purpose! If you only called him or waited to hear him out before moving us away, then things wouldn't be this way. You guys would still be together." The last sentence came out awkwardly, with Yuuta blushing as he said it.

Fuji stood there still, his face expressionless and unreadable. _So, it's true. You didn't do it on purpose. I…just thought that you were jealous of Yuuta at the time. But, it's quite the opposite, isn't it? _"I'm sorry I didn't believe you the first time," said Fuji.

Ryoma looked up, his eyes livid with anger. "Four years, and that's all you can say?!" He pushed past Fuji and ran out of the room, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Yuuta asked his brother. "Run after him! It's been four years. I know you don't want to go through it again, do you?"

Fuji didn't bother to answer as he was already out the door by the time Yuuta finished his sentence.

"You know, for being a tensai, you can be awfully thick at times," Yuuta shouted out, knowing that his brother probably didn't hear.

Fuji found Ryoma leaning against a wall. When Ryoma saw that Fuji was approaching him, he turned to walk away, but Fuji caught his wrist and stopped him.

"You need to stop running away, Echizen," Fuji said. "It's time you face me and tell me about how you feel about our relationship."

"Our relationship? I didn't think there was one still," Ryoma retorted rather bitterly. "If I remember it correctly, you were the one that broke it off four years ago. I was willing to stay with you, but I guess you weren't. It's kind of late to be bringing that up."

Fuji opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a loud squeal somewhere behind the pair.

"Ryoma-chan! I've finally found you!" a female voice called out.

Ryoma looked over Fuji's shoulder and saw a black-haired female calling out to him. "It's Ari," he said. "Don't look back." Without another word, he ran in the opposite direction and turned the corner with Fuji still holding onto his hand.

"Ryoma-chan! Where are you going? Come back!" she called out.

Fuji spotted an unlocked room. "In here," he said to Ryoma, pulling the two of them inside and shutting the door quietly. They slowed their breaths as they heard Ari running past the door; Ryoma let out a sigh in relief.

"You don't want to know," Ryoma said when he caught one of Fuji's assessing looks.

Fuji was extremely curious, but decided not to push the subject. There would be time later on to ask all the questions he wanted if things turned out for the better between the two of them. Fuji looked around and found it to be a supply room, with barely enough room for the two of them, as it was packed with miscellaneous medical supplies.

"Like I was saying before we were interrupted," Fuji continued on quietly, taking a seat on the floor and motioning for Ryoma to take a seat as well. "I admit that I made a really idiotic choice four years ago. I allowed my anger to get the better of me. It's not something I feel very often, so I don't know how to control it sometimes. Just the thought of Yuuta getting hurt—permanently, this time—made me lash out at someone that was really important to me."

Ryoma sat there, his eyes looking to the side, knowing all too well about Fuji's tendencies when angry. He had observed the match between Kirihara and Fuji, and was unnerved by the frosty anger emanating from the tensai. The cold, silent anger was more unsettling than another that was loud and destructive.

"It took me four years to realize the folly of my actions, I can admit to that. So," said Fuji, taking in a big breath. "If you can find it in yourself to forgive me, at least, then I'll go away and never bother you again, if that's what you want."

Ryoma was silent for a moment before he mumbled something.

"I didn't quite catch that."

"I said, it's okay if you want to stay," Ryoma said, turning red. "I don't own the town. Whether you want to stay or not is up to you."

"Do I have your forgiveness, though?" Fuji said.

He thought of Fuji's honey-colored hair, swaying softly in the wind as he played him just a week ago, again for the first time since a long time. He thought of Fuji's voice, soft yet resonant, the warm quality it had sometimes and the harsh undertones at other times.

He thought of Fuji's gleaming blue eyes, eyes that had always watched him, eyes that could see through his very soul, eyes that stole into his own and seemed to leave an imprint that could last for an eternity.

He thought of love and happiness and how things could easily end if he just walked away.

He thought about the past four years, four years spent running away, four years of suppressed damages that were invisible even to the most observant eyes.

"What about the four years, Syusuke? How are you going to give that back to me?" asked Ryoma suddenly. "Do you even _know_ what I went through, all those chaotic emotions and all that hurt?"

Fuji looked at Ryoma silently, his face expressionless but his heart racing, for a full minute before he finally spoke up. "I'm not lying, Ryoma, as I say that I'm willing to do almost anything to have you with me once more. What you're asking for, though, is for me to turn back time, and I can't do that. However, I _can_ try to make it up to you, but only if you'll let me," said Fuji.

"I love you."

Ryoma's eyes turned to look Fuji's sparkling azure ones, the depths of their emotions finally open to one another. Without another word, Fuji opened his arms and Ryoma sank into Fuji's warm hold.

There, in the sanctuary behind the closed doors of the room, Ryoma let go the torrent of the tears that he never had the chance to in the past four years, this time in Fuji's protective embrace.

* * *

The moment Yuuta saw Fuji enter the room with Ryoma in his arms, he knew that the two had finally made up.

"Jeez, took you long enough," he said to the two of them. "If I didn't intervene, then you guys probably never would've made up."

Fuji took a seat next to Yuuta's bed and made Ryoma sit on his lap. "Yes, thank you for that, Yuuta. I guess this means you really do like me, despite all the things you say and how you act, right?"

"Think what you will," Yuuta said stubbornly. "You'll always be my rival, though."

"I have a question, though," Ryoma spoke up. "If it's been four years already—and your arm looks fine to me—why are you still in the hospital?" It had been bugging him for some time, ever since his tears had finally stopped and he had rested in Fuji's arms, just thinking about all that had happened.

"I still have to come once a week for a check up, to see if I'm straining my shoulder too much or not. Plus, the bed's pretty comfortable and I'm rather attached to the food they serve here," he said abashedly, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

"That's it?" Ryoma said, his eyes wide open in shock. He turned onto Fuji accusingly. "You made it sound like he was on his death bed all the time!"

"I never said that," said Fuji innocently. "You just inferred incorrectly on what I told you."

Ryoma sat there on Fuji's lap still, a scowl on his face.

"Can you really blame me, Ryoma? I said what I did because I wanted to be with you again," said Fuji, stroking Ryoma's head to placate him.

"Fine," Ryoma said grudgingly. "But you owe me."

Fuji smiled. "Whatever you want."

"A tennis match—a serious one—and a Ponta after," Ryoma said right away. "Grape, but I'll take cherry if I have to."

"Talk about a one-track mind," Yuuta said in a dry voice.

Ryoma ignored the previous comment. "Ne, Yuuta-kun, are you still playing tennis?" Ryoma asked curiously.

"Yeah. I started as soon as the doctors told me it would be safe to do so. Why?"

"You want to play a match with me?" Ryoma asked eagerly.

"Hey, why not? I have to warn you, though. I've gotten a lot better. Think you can handle it?" he asked with a wicked grin.

"I'm looking forward to it," Ryoma shot back.

"Don't wear each other out too much, especially you, Ryoma," Fuji said warningly.

"Why not?" Ryoma asked.

"Well, because…" The rest of the sentence he whispered in Ryoma's ear, a devious gleam in his eyes. Ryoma's cheeks turned pinker with every word.

"Syusuke!" Ryoma said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Yuuta got the gist of what his brother was trying to say. "Hey, hey! I'm still here, you know. You guys wanna talk about that, go talk about it elsewhere. I'm trying to rest here."

The two of them took their cue to leave.

"I want to have a last word with Yuuta-kun, if I could?" Ryoma said to Fuji. "It won't take long."

Fuji nodded in understanding and walked outside.

Ryoma shut the door before facing Yuuta. "Thanks for helping the two of us out," he said quietly. "And…I'm really sorry about what happened four years ago. I didn't mean to do that on purpose, you know…leaving you there by yourself, not realizing that you were hurt until it was too late."

Yuuta nodded. "I know. Your love of the game is unparalleled, I get that. I've forgiven you a long time ago. I would've told you that, but Syusuke wouldn't let me talk to you."

"I…just wanted to get that through to you," Ryoma said, slightly embarrassed. "Anyhow, thanks." He walked out of the door, his heart feeling a lot lighter than it had two hours ago.

"So, where to?" Ryoma asked Fuji as they walked to the entrance of the hospital.

"I don't know. I was thinking of getting something to eat. But, first," Fuji said. "Tell me about Ari. How does she know you?"

Ryoma looked at Fuji and saw the possessive look in his eyes. "It was a long time ago. We dated just once," Ryoma said, shuffling his feet nervously. "It was a year after you left. As you can tell, she still thinks we're friends or something like that."

"Did she kiss you before?" asked Fuji as he watched Ryoma intently.

"…Just once…It's not like it meant anything, anyways," Ryoma mumbled.

Suddenly, Fuji drew Ryoma into his arms and planted a deep, passionate kiss on his lips, not caring if the other people in the hallway were watching or not. When he broke away, he left Ryoma's lips looking slightly ravaged, his breath ragged, and his eyes clouded.

"So, who's better?"

"You are," Ryoma answered dazedly, coherent thoughts starting to form again in his mind.

"That's right," Fuji replied smugly. "Don't forget that. You belong to me, and me alone. I'm not going to share you with anyone else." Taking Ryoma's hand, the two of them walked towards the exit of the hospital.

Ryoma didn't say anything to Fuji's statement. Instead, he reminisced about the fact that Fuji had said almost the same thing four years ago.

_What if I'm making the wrong choice? I really believed that he would stay with me forever. But, he left me once…Do I want to make that same mistake again? _He looked over at Fuji, who was smiling in a contented kind of way. _"You're mine…" he had said more than once in the past. Truthfully, though, I'm happy with him at my side. _

Ryoma suddenly spoke up. "Syusuke, what if I said that the only reason I went out with Ari is because she reminded me of you?"

Fuji turned to look at him sharply, though he continued to walk. "Is it because you felt lonely?" he asked quietly.

"She had eyes like you, but not quite the same." Ryoma didn't say it, but he thought that Fuji was the prettier one of the two. And not just physically did Ryoma feel attracted to the tensai. There was something else…perhaps Fuji's unique charisma that drew him like a moth to a flame.

Whatever answer Fuji was expecting, it wasn't this one. "Well, I'm here now. Make sure you stay away from her," he warned, feeling a little jealous.

"Yeah," Ryoma replied, a small smile one his lips. He didn't know why he felt happy at Fuji's response, but he did. "You'll stay with me forever, right?"

"Now and until the end of time," Fuji said, giving Ryoma's hand a small squeeze.

The two of them headed out of the hospital and into the fading sunset, one of the same whole and complete once more.

Owari

* * *

A/N-Another series complete! I feel so uplifted and happy. I actually did enjoy writing this series, but it seems rather short with only five chapters. It's one of my rare, non-AU stories. I just hope that it's somewhat different than the usual, generic Thrill Pair stories out there, as I tried to incorporate an unusual theme to it, a bit darker than most, but not too much. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it out.

Many thanks and appreciations to the reviewers who gave me that extra nudge in the right direction, not to mention the pushes I needed to continue the story. You guys all rock! I always feel very happy whenever I read good things from you guys because it makes me feel like my stories are worth reading.

Thank you for reading.

-The Unreal Phantom


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